Fath. Good! Thou wouldst be a reasonable gentleman. Thou wouldst
have a conscience. Now hark to a tale about my lady's last gown.
How many times, think you, took I it back to the sempstress?

Thos. Thrice, may be.

Fath. Thrice, may be! Twenty times, may be; and not a turn too
many, for the truth on't. Twenty times, on the oath of the
sempstress. Now mark me--can you count?

Thos. After a fashion.

Fath. You have much to be thankful for, Master Thomas. You London
serving-men have a world of things, which we in the country never
dream of. Now mark:- Four times took I it back for the flounce;
twice for the sleeves; three for the tucker--How many times in all
is that?

Thos. Eight times to a fraction, Master Fathom.

Fath. What a master of figures you are! Eight times--now recollect
that! And then found she fault with the trimmings. Now tell me,
how many times took I back the gown for the trimmings?

Thos. Eight times more, perhaps!

Fath. Ten times to a certainty. How many times makes that?

Thos. Eighteen, Master Fathom, by the rule of addition.